


With This Rain, My Sins Are Cleansed

by Gracefully



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:09:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1935129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gracefully/pseuds/Gracefully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On one dull and gray day in Purgatory, the skies open up in a flood of water. Cas has a story to tell about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With This Rain, My Sins Are Cleansed

The rain comes one grey day in a long succession of sickly grey days, with little more than an ominous rumble and a thickening of fog above. Benny, eyes wild and scared with memories of some previous experience, dives for the shelter of a rock overhang as soon as he hears the rumble. They’ve been running for days, and the terrain is mostly rocky, with the odd, stunted tree shooting up between boulders. Dean’s almost twisted his ankle twice, and Cas cut his hand when he slipped earlier that day. They’re beaten, bruised, and tired, running from all 31 flavors of monster in this God-forsaken land.

            Dean glances quizzically from Benny to Cas, the latter of whom is smiling faintly at the sky. Dean opens his mouth to ask what, if anything, had made Benny so scared and Cas so thrilled. It’s been weeks since Dean’s seen Cas smile like that.

            Then, with a mutter and a sigh, the skies open in a steady, ever-increasing downpour. Dean turns up his face to catch the rain droplets; the first moisture from the sky that he has felt in what is far too long for any human. It is warmer than the rain he remembers from Earth, almost like a cool shower. He looks to Cas, who has his eyes closed, palms facing the sky, water streaming off of his fingers. His face is free of the new wrinkles that Dean has been noting in between battles and over damp fires, late in the night. His posture is relaxed, his breaths deep. Dean blinks rain out of his eyes and crosses over to the angel.

            “You’re sure it’s safe?” he asks loudly over the rain, glancing to Benny, who is avoiding the rain like its acid. Cas nods, eyes scanning the rocks about them.

            “The rain is poisonous to all children of Eve.” At Dean’s blank stare, Cas says, “I’ll explain later. Right now, enjoy it, the rain is valuable.” Cas shrugs off his overcoat, baring his dirty white asylum shirt. His pants and slippers match it, and are equally dirty, if not dirtier. His under layer is soaked in seconds, shirt becoming nearly transparent where it sticks to his skin. Which happens to be practically everywhere.

            Dean realizes the opportunity and sets his blade aside, shrugging off his leather jacket. It’s caked with blood and dirt, and he knows that if he leaves it in this rain, it’s going to be cleaner than it’s been in what feels like years. After a moment’s hesitation, he takes off his long sleeve shirt, ripped up from bandaging many wounds. He lays that next to the jacket. The shirt comes off next, leaving Dean bare to the rain and the relentless world that he and Cas have found themselves in.

            Dean turns, feeling eyes on his neck. Cas is watching him, rapt, with a sort of fierce affection or protection. It makes Dean self conscious, and he turns away to hide his front. He feels a soft hand on his shoulder, and turns to find Cas has materialized behind him. The hand is still on his shoulder when Cas says aloud,

            “What are you doing?”

            “Getting clean.” Dean answers, running a hand up and down his dirty forearm. He’s sure it hasn’t seen the light of day since he got here, but he’s dirty nonetheless, and so he cleans himself. Cas’ hand is still on his shoulder as Dean continues, “You should too. I have no idea how long this rain will last.” He glances at the sky, into the rain. It stings his eyes, and he looks back down to Cas, who’s watching him with the oddest expression on his face. Dean rolls his shoulders self-consciously, asking “What?”

            Cas pulls off his shirt, and Dean looks away, to give the angel his privacy. He figures that Cas would want at least that, here in purgatory. In the last few months, years, or whatever amount of time had elapsed in that God-forsaken land, Dean, Cas and Benny had not had a moment’s rest. They had tried sleeping, Cas as well, for he was weak. They had been ambushed, and Dean had nearly been killed.

            And now, here they were, showering in this weird rain.

            Dean, after one moment of hesitation, shucks off his mud-and-blood caked boots, socks following soon. He hisses as the top of his sock catches on the healing scab of a bitch of a cut, one that spans from his calf almost all the way to his hip. He balances against one of the rocks, not looking anywhere, as he carefully pulls off his pants. Cas had healed the wound to the best of his ability, but it still hurts, and Dean wants to clean it.

            He stands in the rain for a moment, feeling the ultra-sensitive nerves surrounding his wound flare up like fireworks as they are exposed to the tiny bullets of rain that patter against his skin.

            Dean feels a presence close behind him, warm and tangible. He nearly jolts out of his skin as a warm hand lays itself on the side of his thigh, parallel to his cut. Without turning, he knows it’s Cas. The angelic burn that accompanies Cas’ Grace healing twirls from the hand, fusing nerves and skin together, leaving an unblemished stretch of skin.

            When it’s done, Dean lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Cas’ hand is still on Dean’s leg, and the skin-to-skin contact, while still fairly innocent, is so raw and unblemished by filth and blood, it causes Dean’s throat to swell. Dean’s breath catches as he feels Cas shift closer, his hand radiating heat into Dean’s body.

            It’s still pouring, and Dean is only wearing boxers. He turns, ever so slightly, and sees that Cas has taken off his shirt. His chest is streaked with mud and blood, the rain scoring tracks in it, revealing sun-lacking pale skin over toned muscles.

            Dean swallows, bringing his gaze back up to Cas’ face, and says huskily, “I thought you were weak.” Cas’ hand moves, leaving his thigh. Dean feels its absence like a blow.

            “This rain…” Cas pauses, glancing to the sky, water streaming off of his jaw. “It heals me.” As if on cue, thunder rolls above, and the rain slowly peters off. As Dean washes his clothes and body, Cas just stands with his eyes closed, face turned towards the sky like a man receiving divine intervention.

            The sun comes out, brighter and warmer than before. Dean can't remember the last time it was this strong, not filtered by the depression Purgatory shrouds itself in. To Dean’s clean skin, the heat and light feels like a warm breath of spring. He suns himself on the rocks as his clothes dry, the sun a red flourish against his eyelids. When he slowly opens his eyes, Cas is still standing in the open, shirtless and drying. His skin is practically glowing in the sun, and when Dean squints, the light halos around his head like a prolonged delirious vision of the angelic.

            For some reason, it makes him nostalgic of Earth.

 

 

Dean is crouched over a sputtering fire, clothed and clean, for once. The hard-set lines on his face have receded, like a black shore on a desolate beach. He looks a far cry from happy, but it’s the happiest Benny’s seen him since they found Cas. The sun has set, leaving rain-soaked Purgatory cool and dark. 

            Cas sits beside Dean, trench coat draped over his shoulders, the dim firelight splashing his face in golden light. Benny is stretched out on the other side of the fire, fast asleep after the stress of avoiding the rain, and avoiding Dean's questions. 

            “So, Cas,” Dean begins, his voice a quiet rumble that even the haze of purgatory cannot pervert, “can you tell me about that rain?”

            Cas nods, settling back against his rock in preparation for the coming story. Dean settles back in turn, their shoulders touching through layers of clothing that the righteous man and the angel wear like armor to protect them from the harsh reality of the world they find themselves living in.

            Cas’ voice is soft, healed from the blessing that came in the form of rain. “When Adam and Eve were banished from Eden, Eve secretly made a deal with the serpent, giving her soul so that she could one day return to paradise. She didn't tell Adam of this deal, and went with him at first. It wasn't until many years later that she returned to her home.

            “Everything was as she remembered, except that she had what she had once desired: solitude. In her self-inflicted exile, Eve began making monsters. She experimented and morphed, bringing forth waves of new monsters into what was originally intended as a paradise for humanity. As the generations of monsters grew and died, they continued living in Eden, and with each new monster, it became darker and darker.”

            Cas’ voice shifts, now into one of regret. “Eve, seeing her paradise begin to wither and die, banished all of her monsters to Earth, where she expected them to all live.”

            A small smile graces Cas’ often unsmiling face, and he asks, “Have you ever heard that you die very near to where you were born?” His voice takes on the air of a philosopher. “It’s interesting, the way you always end up where you’re intended to be in the long run, no matter what you try and do to stop it.” The words send a chill down Dean’s spine, it was all too close to what Lucifer wearing his kid brother said as he kept his heel on the future Dean’s neck.

            “Anyway, Eve quickly found out that when a monster dies on Earth, they come back to their birthplace: Eden. As the thousands of monsters built up over hundreds of years, always killing and slaughtering one another for their own gains, Eden darkened beyond what the brightest sunlight could pierce. It would have become a second hell, in fact, if it wasn’t for the rain.

            “When God built Eden, he wanted there to be as little rain as possible, so that the most possible days could be spent enjoying the sunlight. Therefore, he planned the rains so that they only came for an hour, twice a year. The rain is healing to all of God’s creations, but burns those of Eve. You saw how Benny reacted. The rain is like acid.

            “That first rain killed many already-dead monsters, and cleansed the land enough to keep it livable. Now, all monsters know to hide when they hear the rumble of the rain.”

            Cas shifts, so that his crossed legs are pressed up against Dean’s crossed legs, their mirroring of one another spot-on. His story is over, and though it has been spelled out for him in glittering neon letters, Dean still asks,

            “So wait, Purgatory used to be Eden?” It was hard to imagine that a place of such despair and desperation could have once been paradise.

            Cas nods, eyes flicking through the forest surrounding them, before changing the subject, “You should get some sleep, Dean. The rain is healing, but sleep will heal you far more than anything here can.”

            Dean nods wearily, realizing with a start how tired he actually is. Shifting in the dirt, he readjusts so that his head rests on Cas’ thigh, his blade tucked safely next to his ribcage. Cas’ arm comes to rest in his hair, a soothing comfort that Dean would probably reject on Earth.

            In this place of abomination, the righteous man falls asleep on his angel, feeling clean for the first time in a long time. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by a post on tumblr about how maybe Purgatory used to be Eden, so I took it and ran with it.


End file.
